Little Girl
by JasperThePlasticPig
Summary: Just because I love hearing what 3rd parties think about Booth and Bones, and because I love Max. Very itty bitty spoilers for Judas on a Pole.


**A/N: Well howdy.**

**This is set just before 2x11 (Judas on a Pole). I watched the rerun the other day and couldn't help wondering what Max thought about Booth the first time he saw him. This eventually popped into my head and begged to be written. In fact, it's still begging. Its saying, "Review! Review!"**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Bones. (Darn.)**

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It wasn't that it hadn't felt like fifteen years, because it definitely had. Every day he had felt the loss of his family, his life, and the pain of his decision was never ending. So yes, he knew it had been a long time since his kids were, well, kids, and he _knew_ that when he saw them again, they would look different, and so would he.

And yet...

And yet he couldn't help imagining them as they had been the day he'd left. Tempe, her nose buried in a book, looking up to smile and wave as her parents walked out the door with a promise to "be back soon". (A promise she wouldn't remember the words to but would feel the waves of betrayal from for years to come.) Russ, his skinny frame hunched over the opened hood of his car, a wrench in one hand and a water bottle in the other. He'd smiled as well, asking them to pick up some soda while they were gone.

Those were the two faces Max kept seeing in his mind. Mainly because he couldn't bear thinking that he had really been gone so long. He knew he had, but he just couldn't believe it. Couldn't help imagining that he'd wake up one morning in his old bed with his wife alive and still sleeping next to him, his son and daughter bickering quietly down the hall over who decided what to watch on TV that morning. That the last decade and a half had been a dream – no, a _nightmare._ One he would wake up from at any second.

But he never did.

And today, when he saw his daughter's face for the first time in fifteen years, it fully sank in that he never would.

He'd seen Russ, sure. His plan wouldn't work if he hadn't already talked to his son face to face. But Russ had always been consistent with his looks. Chin pointed, build tall and lanky, hair always in the gray zone between long and short.

Temperance, however, was another story. As a baby she'd had round, pudgy cheeks and eyes the same grey-green as her father's. As a child she'd been skinny, like her brother, her face becoming angular and her eyes darkening to become bluer. And in her teenage years Tempe had started filling out, getting curves and looking less like a little girl and more like a young woman.

And he had accepted the fact that she would be different. It was _how _different that threw him off.

He'd heard from a contact that she liked to eat at a diner not far some her city apartment. He decided that he'd drive by, look in and try to see her. He knew he wouldn't be able to keep the emotions down when he saw his little girl again for the first time, so he thought it best to get that reaction out of the way, that way his performance would be flawless when he met her while incognito.

So on the morning before he planned to contact her, he parked his car across the street from the small diner. No other parked cars blocked his view, so he could see perfectly through all the large windows.

Subconsciously, he registered the fact that a sniper could get a good angle of every corner. _I'll have to discourage Russ from coming here,_ he thought. _Just in case._

His eyes skimmed over the empty tables near the door, over a couple immediately in front of one of the windows, and focused on a woman sitting alone towards the back. He noted the brown hair, pale skin, but when she looked up to talk to a waiter he saw that she had jade green eyes, not the pale blue's of his daughter.

_They could have changed, Max,_ he told himself. _You weren't there, you can't know they haven't._

No one else fit the profile, so he let his eyes wonder.

And almost smacked himself on the forehead.

How he'd missed her, he didn't know. Maybe it was how her back was so straight (she'd had terrible posture as a child) or the way her hair was down (she'd almost always worn it in a pony tale). But there was no denying it when he saw her face. She looked just like her mother. A small nose, almond shaped eyes, a pale complexion and thin brows. From this distance he couldn't be certain, but he thought her eyes had stayed the same green-blue of her childhood.

But she looked so _grown up_. She wore light make up and a white blouse that was flattering and professional at the same time. The way she held her self was completely different from the young, timid Temperance he'd seen so many years ago. This Tempe looked so much more confident. But her eyes still smiled, though in a different way than he'd remembered.

That's when Max noticed the reason he'd skimmed over her in the beginning. It wasn't her posture or her hair, but the man sitting across from her. He was tall and muscular, with broad shoulders that filled out his well tailored suit. His brown hair was cut short and carefully gelled. His equally brown eyes were trained right on Temperance; they seemed to smile as well.

As Max watched, the man leaned forward, and Temperance did the same. He said something, smiled, and she rolled her eyes, stealing a French fry off his plate before sitting back again.

Max felt something tighten in his chest. Of all the things he thought might have changed, this wasn't one of them. He'd never imagined that his shy, brilliant daughter would have come out of her shell and gotten a boyfriend. Max couldn't remember her dating anyone when she was younger or ever talking about crushes. And yet here she was, smiling lovingly at a man Max had never seen before. He didn't know whether to feel guilty (he should have been there to talk to her about boys and such), sad (he'd missed so much), or protective (after all, she was still his baby girl).

As he watched, the man pulled out a cell phone and started talking into it. He hung up after a moment and gestured for the check. Once it was paid, he and Temperance stood and moved towards the door, his hand resting lightly on the small of her back, the intimate gesture firming Max's analysis of the situation.

As Max watched them climb into a black SUV and drive away, he made a note to talk to this mystery beau. Maybe not directly, but he'd still make sure the kid knew not to break his daughter's heart. And warning would likely be a wise thing to give.

After all, he was Max Keenan.

And she was still his little girl.


End file.
